I woke up on a bed the next morning to find Joe standing over me. He had stayed up all night drinking and he was more than just drunk - he was on a bender. His nostrils were flared and his eyes were red and runny. A barbeque-fork was in his hand and on it was pig nose, and hot grease from the nose was dripping on my chest. He opened his mouth and his Schnapps breath hit me in a wave. “Snoots, snoots!” he shouted, “I promised you barbeque, an’ fine snoots is what we got!”